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Why so mad

Bingo-Rage was an inside joke between my Mum and I. She was a diehard, loyal bingo player who passed away a few years ago. Her jones wasn`t the multimillion dollar jackpots bleeding Las Vegas dry, it was the insatiable $50 inside square and the lascivious, yet demure thousand dollar jackpot.

I could always tell when she had missed a big pot; holding onto a card that only needed two more numbers, when the ballcount was only at 36. Or, some such compelling position. She then watched twenty-two balls dance by, sometimes right next door; but fail to light on her stoop. She was steamed.